


All Good Things Come To An End

by Julian_M_Wright



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julian_M_Wright/pseuds/Julian_M_Wright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean descends to Hell. Alastair has plans for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Good Things Come To An End

If there was one thing that everyone was mistaken about Alastair, it was his choice of soul. Anyone would think that such a twisted, merciless – maybe even perverted, infamous torturer such as Alastair would relish the opportunity to get his hands on a dirty, evil soul. But the truth was far from that.

In fact, the kind of soul he loved and enjoyed the most was a pure, clean soul – a soul the likes of Dean Winchester.

When Dean Winchester first arrived in one of the deepest levels of hell, Alastair was thrilled. He had not met the young hunter before but he had heard enough to be interested in him. All demons or any other souls that knew of him said the same thing – handsome, arrogant, brave, stubborn, determined, hot-tempered and righteous.

And, all demons who had been sent back to hell by Dean Winchester wanted to have a go at him.

Knowing this, Alastair declared that Dean Winchester was his. Under no circumstances was anyone allowed to touch him. No demon would be crazy enough to go against Alastair – not unless they wanted to spend some "private time" with the infamous torturer that even Lucifer was fond of.

At their first meeting, the young hunter spat at the infamous torturer. All the demons who were watching nearby, gasped in horror. No one had ever dared to risk such an act. They knew the last demon that did that had not lived to tell the tale, having got itself brutally carved up by Alastair and fed to his personally trained Hellhounds.

What would become of the young hunter, no demon knew; but one thing was sure – he was in serious hot soup – or should we say hot fire in this case – and no way in hell he was going to get away that easily.

The demons watched nervously as Alastair wiped the saliva off his face. Their breath stopped for a moment when they saw Alastair smile. The torturer was smiling. That was not good. When Alastair was smiling, every demon and every soul knew what to expect next. Whatever that was going to happen to Dean Winchester next was no walk in the park.

"Dean, I'm utterly disappointed. Here I am thinking that we could have a great start together ..." said Alastair as he brought out his blade and raised it to the hunter's left cheek. He drew a diagonal line with his blade, slicing into Dean's stubble-covered cheek, tearing the skin wide open.

"To the start of a long beautiful friendship!" the demon torturer piped cheerfully as he drew another similar line that mirrored the other, followed by a horizontal line before taking a step back to admire his handiwork. Blood was escaping from the cuts and flowing down the cheek in slow trickles. Alastair took in the sight of the young hunter's left cheek, a deep sense of pride rising up in him. He had just made his first mark on Dean Winchester, claiming the hunter as his property with the initial of his name.

"There's nothing beautiful," spat the young hunter defiantly, seemingly unfazed by the cuts Alastair had just inflicted on him, "and certainly no friendship with a filthy son-of-a-bitch like –" His words cut off as a scream erupted for the first time from his throat.

Alastair had just stabbed his chest with a sword that had been produced out of nowhere and was dragging the blade down his chest slowly, ripping the flesh open and exposing the contents underneath. Despite his own screams, Dean could hear the sound of his rib bones crushing as the sword created its own path through his upper body.

And just when he thought it was over, Alastair reached into the open hole in his chest and clamped his fingers around his rapidly pounding heart. Dean felt nausea in his throat when the fingers started to rub the surface of his heart, which was pumping even more hysterically now.

Speechless, the young hunter stared wide-eyed at Alastair. The demon was smiling gleefully back at him. Dean could see amusement in the demon's eyes. He shook his head desperately, knowing what the demon was about to do next. It was fruitless. A louder scream tore out of his throat this time as the fingers gripped the heart, squeezing it tighter and tighter until the organ was no longer how it was initially shaped.

Dean threw his head back and screamed for a long time until his voice was hoarse. Then, he dropped his head and started choking on his own blood that was now spewing out of his mouth. His vision was starting to blur around the edges. He felt like the place was spinning around him. His heart had been crushed and blood was spilling out of his chest. How he could still be alive while suffering from such a massive wound, he had no idea.

 _Things here probably work a lot differently from the human world_ , he thought.

And for the first time since his arrival in hell, he conceded that he was indeed in hell, that this was how things were going to be like from now on.

Alastair could see Dean showing resignation for his own fate in hell. He was slightly disappointed. He thought the famous young hunter would put up more of a fight. Curling his fingers around Dean's hair, he pulled the hunter's head up to level his face with his own before proposing his plan.

"Dean, seeing as how generous I am, I'm gonna give you a deal," Alastair proposed with a glint in his eyes. "How about we take you off the rack and you pick up the blade? What do you say?"

"To do what?" Dean managed with a ragged voice.

"Oh, you know – the usual stuff. It's very easy. Just slice all of 'em open like what I did."

Dean froze at the reply. As painful as it was for his first day in hell and no matter how much he wanted the pain to stop, he certainly was not going to sink down to their level. He sure as hell would not torture some other soul just because he was too weak to deal with the pain and torture for the rest of his stay in hell. He was not one of them, not one of these low sonofabitch demons. He was determined to not become one of them either, no matter what happened in the future.

"So what do you say, Dean?" Alastair asked. He was getting impatient with Dean's sudden silence. Then, he heard a murmur from the hunter. He leaned in to hear him but he still could not make out the words. "What's that you say? You're gonna have to speak louder, boy."

"I said – "Go to hell" you sonofabitch," Dean growled, his eyes blazing with fierce determination.

Alastair stared at the young hunter's angry and determined face. From Dean's earlier look of resignation on his face, he was fairly certain that the hunter would give in and start torturing. He had underestimated him.

Alastair rejoiced inwardly. It looked like Dean Winchester was going to prolong his stay on the rack. To break a clean, righteous and stubborn soul like Dean Winchester would be a challenge but the pay-off would definitely be worth the wait and effort.

 _Oh, the things I could do to make you scream and have you pleading on your knees_ , Alastair thought excitedly.  _And, finally seeing you submit to me and break. It will be the best start of the end …_

Dean could feel his body numbing as his consciousness began to dissolve. He felt a brief sense of relief as the pain from his still bleeding wounds was becoming too much to take. Hell was a treacherous place filled with lots of demons that might attack him anytime but for just a short time, he would like to escape from the pain. He knew that he would not be able to feel the pain anymore if he just let himself fall into unconsciousness.

His vision started to darken and soon his eyes drew to a close, refusing to open again. He did not try to fight it but instead gave in and welcomed it. He could hardly hear the faint screams surrounding the place now. What Alastair was doing now, he had no idea either and he did not want to care. His mind was shutting down rapidly.

Before the young hunter became dead to the world, he heard the faint murmur of Alastair's amused voice at his ear, "Try to keep up, boy. This is just the start."

Then, there was nothing.


End file.
